Aftermath
by WibblyWobbly-TimeyWimey
Summary: Jim is suffering the aftermath of STXII (Into Darkness). Spoilers briefly mentioned, mostly leaning towards Spirk but nothing overt. Mostly just angst and feeling sorry for Jim. Rated T for Bones' (and Jim's) language.
1. Bones

**A/N: **So I'm turning into a rather large Trekkie and am quite loving this rapid transformation. After seeing STXII 3 times and then buying the novelisation (what) I was desperate to write _something_. So because I'm a sick bastard and love men when they're vulnerable, I've taken the idea of Tony Stark's anxiety attacks in IM3, and used this for Jim after the events of STXII. It's happening from various points of view, and my Trekkie writing skills are hardly yet up to scratch so forgive me my trespasses and likely numerous mistakes.

Spirk, angst but also fluff, Bones/Jim/Uhura friendship, Bones/swearing, maybe some Bones/Uhura flirts. Because who _wouldn't_ want those legendary hands?

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek universe, else they'd all just be having sex and fluffiness all the time. Like, _all_ the time.

* * *

The first time Bones saw it was when the damn Admirals barely gave Jim two days after he'd first woken up before they were breathing down his neck barking one question after another. No matter how much Bones had protested, how much he'd thrown on his most authoritative doctor voice, they wouldn't hear it and arrived for the official debriefing for the Khan incident. He'd watched the panic creep into Jim's face, before he called the meeting to a close with strict instruction. The Admirals initially had been reluctant, but Jim had answered all their questions and in Bones eyes, they were only there to cause more disaster.

'Course that's when they dropped the bombshell of Jim's captaincy. As the bastard had been walking out of the door like it was an _afterthought_, he held back to say '_Oh and Jim, we're reviewing your case closely, and you'll be informed as soon as we've decided whether Admiral Marcus_'_ reinstatement of your captaincy is permeant_.' then with a nod was gone. Bones was all for storming out the room after him, more than happy in introducing the Admiral to some afterthoughts of his own, when he heard the tone of Jim's voice.

"Bones." It was broken and shaking and downright terrified. Jim hardly recognised himself. As Bones reached his side, it really hit him. He'd been fighting it off all throughout the interview, shoving it down while the Admirals had asked him questions, but with that fleeting comment it resurfaced anew. Jim's chest was tight, his vision going funny, his head was fucking swimming, and he felt like his throat was shutting down.

"Jim…" He barely heard his friend's voice; there was a roaring in his ears and he was seriously struggling to breath, his mouth gaping, hands clasping at anything that would give them purchase. "Jim, Jim listen to me…" There was too much noise. His heart was hammering erratically in his chest. He was back inside the chamber again, Spock's voice, the radiation coursing through him, two hands pressed on glass, the sound of the _Enterprise_, the noiseless presence of death. "_Jim_!"

Then he's aware of two hands gripping him. Tight, solid, warm. Safe. "That's it, Jim, that's it. In, and out. In and out." Breathing. Concentrate. He focuses on the voice and exaggerated breathing, he homes in on the thick Southern accent. He thinks of the heat and the dirt and the air. Of the face behind the accent. The hands cupping his face. The hazel eyes feverishly watching him. "You're doing great, just a few more breaths." When he can finally fucking see the face behind the drawl that's bringing him back to ground level, his breathing calms more rapidly. It's simple; in and out. Walking into medbay, walking out.

"Wh…" Jim clears his throat and starts again, "What the hell was that? Am I having a reaction to the meds?" His voice is still shaky and he can almost feel the energy leaving his body in a tidal wave.

"Jesus, Jim. No, it wasn't the damn meds. You had an anxiety attack. No fucking wonder after those bastards." Bones face softens a little but Jim can still see the worry plastered over his features. His thumb strokes gently at Jim's cheekbone but he grabs him by the arms and hauls him off the ground.

"Thought I wasn't allowed to leave bed." Jim mumbled as Bones shoved him back onto the cot.

"You're not." Jim frowns and Bones glares at him, "_You_ practically leapt off the damn thing the second they were out the door." He gestures behind him and runs his eyes over Jim's vitals. Jim lets out another shaky breath and runs his hands over his face.

"You all right, kid?" Bones' voice is filled with concern and Jim feels a rush of guilt and embarrassment. He nods and refuses to meet his eyes. "Jim you went through a lot, hell we all fucking did, it's only expected that there's gonna be repercussions."

"Yeah, I know." His voice is quiet and he looks up. He notices the dark circles under his best friend's eyes, the tiredness that suddenly seems evident on him. Jim feels like a heel for not noticing sooner. "Bones when was the last time you got any sleep?" Bones shrugs nonchalantly, not taking his eyes off the screen. "Go get some sleep. 'M fine." He stifles a yawn and winces; apparently leaping out of bed after being out for two and half weeks didn't agree with his muscles.

"Sure, Jim, whatever you say." He rolls his eyes and Jim scowls at him.

"Bones get some fucking sleep. You're no use to anybody tired."

"Are you questioning my methods?" Bones raises his eyebrows at him, daring him to cross that line.

"No, no of course not, 'm just saying, you need sleep too." Jim feels a sharp jab in his neck and he yelps, realising all too late Bones had just inflicted him with another damn hypo. "Hey!"

"That's for being an ass." He says, still glaring.

"Whatever. You just know 'm right…" He yawns again and frowns. One day he's going to remove the sedatives from his friend's over eager hands. "Jus' get s'm sleep, 'kay? 'S 'n order." He tries to look as captainy as he can, something Bones finds terribly amusing with his drooping eyelids and sleepy puppy dog expression.

"'Course, Jim." He smiles fondly as Jim's head drops against the pillow. He then sits in a nearby chair and drops his head in his hands. God knows he knew that Jim was going to suffer some kind after that whole nightmare, but he hadn't bet on it happening so soon. He doesn't know why, and he's actually a little surprised he didn't have one the second he woke up, but still, Bones thought it would have taken a little longer. If only to spare his friend having to go through it all again.

The door slides open and he looks up to find Spock stood just inside the doorway.

"Doctor." He inclines his head towards Bones, then stops, looking at him more carefully. "Has something happened?"

Bones debates. He argues he doesn't want Spock to know, he doesn't want Spock to get all goddamn uppity and not understanding of the human mind, he doesn't want him to him to start seconding guessing _him_, but really he just doesn't want Spock to worry. He snorts despite himself. If someone had told him that he'd one day be sparing a Vulcan's _feelings_ from worrying, especially Spock, he would have laughed in their face and told them they could stick _that_ idea up their ass.

Spock continues to watch him, eventually quirking his eyebrow at Bones' lack of response. That's as much prompt as he needs. "Nothin'. Practically falling asleep during the damn debriefing, which I still stand by was too soon." Spock nods, his gaze falling back to the unconscious soul on the cot. "Told me to get some sleep. Ordered me too actually. Which was hellish funny with his dumb sleepy expression." Bones finds himself mumbling and stands up to roll his shoulders.

Spock spares him a glance. "I agree with the captain. You have not had sufficient rest since the incident."

Bones snorts again. His whole body aches, and he feels it in a wave. After the sudden adrenaline rush that seems to only arrive whenever he's around Jim he's not too surprised. "Tell me something I don't know."

Instead of answering, Spock merely pulls up a chair by Jim's side, and says "I will watch over him while you rest. If there is any change in his state I shall notify you immediately." He says it in a voice that is most definitely a _do not argue with me_ voice, but gently. At least as gently as Bones thinks the Vulcan can manage. He hesitates but grudgingly nods and pulls off his communicator, throwing it to the side as he climbs onto the spare cot they'd pulled in there at his request.

"Thanks, Spock." He grumbles as he feels every cell in his body cry _relief _when he finally lies down. Spock nods but doesn't look up. His eyes are fixed on their captain. Bones smiles to himself, too tired to even mumble a teasing comment about Spock's dedication to their captain. His last image before he closes his eyes and lets sleep overtake him, is of Spock silently reaching for Jim's hand.


	2. Uhura

**A/N**: Well I'm certainly glad y'all liked it. This time I've been a good little lady and have already written each part, so will be updating it regularly (although there's only one part left after this so). I'm debating whether or not to add Sulu/Scotty/Chekov chapters but they're hard to write so it's very much undecided. If I don't; expect to see the final part next week!

Thank you so much for those who have reviewed/followed/read etc. It means an awful lot. Extra smiles for you, you go.

Happy Father's Day!

* * *

The first time Nyota sees it is when she's off shift and bumps into Kirk in the corridor. Quite literally.

"Captain." She steps back and opens her mouth to apologise, when she chances upon the look on his face; he quickly schools his features into a more neutral expression but she catches it all the same.

"Lieutenant." He nods and shifts to move when she reaches out to grab his arm.

"Kirk?" Suspicious is evident in her voice.

"Something I can help you with, Uhura? A drink perhaps?" He waggles his eyebrows and smirks at her, but she isn't fooled. He surprises her but taking him up on the offer. He hadn't been expecting her to accept, not by any means. "What, really?"

"_I'm_ buying." She says, looking at him through narrowed eyes, before spinning on her heel and walking down the corridor. Kirk watches her ponytail swing for half a moment before following. While Uhura was hot, like, really hot, he wasn't afraid to admit she was fucking terrifying when she wanted to be, and at that moment, Kirk was more than a little apprehensive.

She lead him to the mess hall, and after a calculating look, ordered him to sit in a corner before stalking off. It felt a little weird taking orders from someone for a change, but he wasn't about to argue. Especially after the purse of those lovely lips. When she returned, she promptly placed a plate of food, and a steaming cup in front of him and said "Drink."

"You know it makes me all tingly when you give me commands, Lieutenant." He grinned, trying to alleviate the increasing _run away now this is about to get serious_ feeling his brain was currently giving him.

"Shut your mouth and drink, Kirk, or I'll make you drink." Uhura said but her demeaner seemed to relax a little. She wasn't usually so abrupt unless she was pissed or worried. Half of him hoped it was the former.

"And how would you propose to do that?" He playfully waggled his eyebrows again, but upon the look she gave him he immediately lifted his hands in defence, "Alright alright, jesus. I'll drink it." He took a sip; it was thick and lumpy and quite possibly the most disgusting thing he'd ever tasted. "It's great."

Uhura suddenly laughed and Kirk felt the tension ease a little. "Sorry. It's apparently as close as the replicators can come to coffee."

"At least it's hot." He shrugged and Uhura smiled. There was an expression creeping up onto her face and he wasn't sure he liked it. He decided to bite the bullet. "Alright, what is it?"

"What's wrong?"

"What?" Kirk asked after a momentary stunned pause.

"I'm not an idiot, Kirk. I know you better than you think. Did something happen? On the bridge? With Spock?" She leaned forward and studied his face.

"What? No nothing's happened, why would you- wait what would Spock have anything to do with-"

"Jim. We've been back on the _Enterprise_ for a month now, and while you're hiding it pretty well from everyone else, I know something's up. And if you're gonna be an ass and not tell me so I can't help, then I'm going to have to force it from you another way."

That really cut him short. _Jim_? Uhura never called him Jim. He held her gaze for a moment, before finally speaking. "Does this mean I can use your first name?"

Uhura rolled her eyes and sat back into her seat with a growl of annoyance. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"So I've been told," He smirked at her, but feeling guilty for having his Lieutenant evidently worried for him, he caved a little, "I don't wanna talk about it, Uhura. Maybe at another point, but not today. I appreciate it, though. Thanks." He added a little gruffly. Uhura looked as though she were about to say something when the doors opened and what looked like the whole of the damn crew walked in for what was obviously the ending of a shift. She frowned a little looking at the streams of people suddenly around them.

Kirk ran a hand through his hair. The sudden influx of people was a little disorientating. He felt a jolt in his stomach but pushed it down with another gulp of the hideous replicator coffee. Uhura turned back to him, and thankfully changed the subject. They chatted a while about various things, and it was kinda nice, to just talk to someone about meaningless trivial shit.

His gaze drifted to the various faces of his crew, laughing and talking around him. Some of the crew were new, and many he didn't recognise. He felt bad about this, for not being able to list of the names of the people around him, but a voice that sounded strangely like his first officer, told him this was illogical as to know the names of every member of the crew was an almost unachievable task. He recognised a few crewmen here and there, which was when the feeling suddenly hit him like a ton of breaks. All the faces he didn't recognise, all those lifeforms, they were there to replace the crew that died. Those that _he'd_ lost. The ones he hadn't cared for well enough. The ones who he had been their last captain to. Some their only captain. They were all dead. It was his fault.

"Kirk?" Uhura had noticed Jim's demeanour shifting throughout their conversation; his attention became less attentive, his gaze constantly flickering and drifting to those around them. He hadn't touched the food she'd brought him. His hands were trembling. His expression had now taken on one of a deer in headlights.

"Jim." She tried again, more firmly, this time grabbing his hand. Kirk's eyes snapped to hers. She had to hold back her gasp at the panic in his eyes. "What is it?" She leaned forward, trying to use a more professional manner but failing entirely at the levels of concern sweeping through her. He made a flippant gesture with his free hand.

"Anxiety attacks. Or somethin'. Bones…" He trailed off and suddenly he was clutching her hand tighter. He needed her to understand. He needed to get out. The noise level seemed to be rapidly rising and he felt as though he may break at any moment; he couldn't do it here.

"How long have you been having them?" He made another dismissive gesture glancing around him, then fixing her with a pleading stare. Uhura nodded. She could ask Bones later, it wasn't important just that minute. What was important was getting Kirk out of there. God knows what the crew would do if they saw their captain go into a full on panic attack.

She let go of his hand and stood, moving immediately to his side. Kirk seemed to waver for a moment, before gritting his jaw and joining her. When Kirk was later able to think clearly, he remembered feeling on the verge of yet _another_ fucking attack when his Lieutenant found him, how she distracted him, and how if it hadn't been for the ending shift, he would have probably been able to avoid it altogether. He would never understand how he would come to leave that room without collapsing in the middle of it.

After they walked through the doors, Kirk repeating _just a few more steps just a few more steps _like a prayer in his head, they reached a blissfully empty corridor. As the door closed quietly shut behind him, cutting off the noise, Kirk slid down the wall feeling like his chest was collapsing in on itself. His breathing was ragged and erratic; something he was struggling with remembering how to do. He wasn't aware of Uhura's horrified expression, or her hands on his face, or her words, trying desperately to calm her captain and her friend.

All that was going through his mind was those lifeforms. His crew. Some of them had had families, husbands, wives, children. Some of them didn't. He wasn't sure which was worse. He was wracking his brains for something that he could have done differently, _anything_ to save those innocent people. Their blood was on his hands.

When he slowly, fucking _finally_, began to wind back to himself, he was aware of Bones' calming heavy accent, Uhurua's worried words, and something hard beneath him.

"That's it, Jim. Easy now, darlin'." There was a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. He opened his eyes; he was sat on the floor apparently. With a few more slow deep breaths, he felt able to lift his head. Uhura was directly in front of him, her hands lightly gripping his wrists, Bones to his right. There was a moment of quiet, only the sounds of shaky breathing and Bones' hand against the fabric of Jim's shirt.

"Well, shit."

Uhura looked about ready to slap him, but she smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Awesome," he smiled weakly and looked sidelong at Bones. "Sorry. To you as well, Uhura. Didn't mean to… y'know." He lowered his head, frustrated and embarrassed that he'd had another, in the mess hall of all places.

"How many does this make it now, kid?" Bones' voice was gentle, and he still hadn't stopped rubbing Jim's back.

"Since the first?" Bones nodded. Jim let out a long breath and half shrugged, "A dozen maybe. Haven't really been counting." He had; there'd been nineteen.

"Damn it, Jim." Bones frowned and Jim tried to smile apologetically. Uhura sighed and called him an idiot for not telling her sooner. Bones snorted and told her she didn't know the half of it. They shared a look Jim recognised which he filed away in his brain for taunting material later. "What the hell are we gonna do with you?"

"You've known since he first started having them?" Uhura looked at Bones, who's hand had disappeared with a final reassuring squeeze of the shoulder. Jim ignored them and leant back, resting his head with a soft thunk against the wall behind him. He felt exhausted again.

"I was there. Gotta admit, this is the worst so far." It wasn't.

"Don't suppose those legendary hands can come up with a cure, Leonard?" Jim was a little surprised at her semi playful tone. Was his esteemed Lieutenant flirting with his CMO?

"Not this time, 'm afraid. He's just gotta sit 'em out."

"Damn it. If those Admirals hadn't gone in there so soon it mightn't have been so bad… if they hadn't made him relive it within hours of him waking up…" Jim debated whether he should tell her that it was actually a couple of days later but decided against it. He was feeling sleep creep up on him. He could tell her later.

"You're tellin' me. I was ready to wring those goddamn bastards' necks but then Spock walked in and I was practically dead on my feet."

There was a pause, then Uhura's voice dropped low. "Does he know?"

"I didn't want that hobgoblin to worry." Bones' voice was a low as Uhura's. They were close to whispering.

"I was wondering why you were so adamant when he appeared. I think I managed to convince him but he's not stupid, Leonard. Lord knows they're both the biggest idiots in this universe, but he's gonna realise soon." Jim frowned sleepily. That was insulting. "It might help him."

"What, that pointy eared bastard?"

"Leonard."

"I know, Nyota, I know. God else knows why I haven't already told him."

"Hey!" Jim's eyes suddenly shot open and both Uhura and Bones moved back from each other. "How come he gets to call you Ny-" Jim was cut off with a sharp pain in his neck. "Damn it, Bones!" He rubbed his neck and grumpily stared at the two. As his mind slowly caught up, he came upon a realisation. "Wait were you guys talking about Spock?"

Uhura shook her head and sighed loudly. "You're hopeless, Kirk."

"Resent that." He mumbled before slumping against Bones; the sedative suddenly evident in his system. He was asleep within seconds.

Bones allows himself a moment to rest his head against Jim's, remembering when they were younger and relatively stress free or least healthier certainly. Space had aged his friend far too quickly. He sighed and shifted to grab Jim, signalling to Uhura for help, before they half dragged half carried him to his bed. They stood side by side, silent for a moment. Both shared a great love for their captain. Their ridiculous, altruistic, brave heart of a man.

"So. Who's gonna tell his dumb boyfriend then?" Bones said breaking the silence. Uhura laughed and elbowed him lightly in the side.

"Come on, McCoy. I think we need a drink."

"Do we indeed?" He smirked in a way that made Uhura wonder if it was a trait he'd acquired from Kirk; it was certainly attractive and not far off their captains trade mark grin. Leonard's smirk was softer however, slightly maturer and a little more timid.

They walked from Kirk's quarters, with the last sounds being Bones overtly flirtatious tones. "You know I have a bottle of jack in my quarters…"


	3. Spock

**A/N**: Well shit guys, you've all been so bloody lovely I just don't know what to say. I've never been particularly confident in much that I do, so seeing something I've created received so well is just, it's kinda really lovely and thank you all so fucking much.

I'm leaving this story as 'in progress', just on the off chance I fancy doing an epilogue of some kind with some cute ass spirk and grumpy Bones. Which if so, will be here with you by next week.

Anyway, on with the show and all that. I really fucking love this chapter. Enjoy, kids.

* * *

When Spock first sees it, he's already been harbouring suspicious that Doctor McCoy and Lieutenant Uhura are hiding something important from him. There had been precisely seven cases in which the doctor had acted most peculiarly around their captain, and then the most recent case, bringing the total to eight unusual incidents, in which Uhura had cemented his suspicious by clearly driving him away. He was sure he had heard the doctor's urgent whisperings to her as he approached the corner, but as he reached her he found she was alone. He had narrowed his eyes at her being outside the captain's quarters, but decided to obligee Uhura's frankly ridiculous request and return from whence he came.

Spock was 83.64% certain it was revolved around the captain, mysterious happenings on the ship usually were, but he knew that if there was something truly wrong Doctor McCoy would have informed him upon it immediately. Not only as it was protocol, one that he was certain McCoy would not dare to defy, but also taking into account the friendship that had grown between them. He, much to Spock's frustration, was perpetually taunting Spock about his 'soft spot' for their captain. Were it something serious, something to McCoy's knowledge, he would have been informed. They both had experience of Kirk's dismissive nature to his injuries.

However, both the doctor's and the Lieutenant's unjustifiable behaviour were beginning to perplex him. He would never truly understand the illogical workings of the human mind, yet he had begun to feel a closer understanding to humans singularly. Such as doctor McCoy, who despite his perpetual irritable nature, showed an admirable level love and loyalty to those he held dear. Lieutenant Uhura was similar in this nature, though her sharp mind and defensive temperament lead those who weren't acquainted with her to believe she was without positive aspects. He knew this to be untrue. Uhura was singularly one of the most selfless humans he had ever encountered, and once her friendship was won, she would fight to protect you to the point of inane stubbornness.

This behaviour was most unlike them. It was perplexing. He decided to confront the captain about it.

Arriving at the captain's quarters, Spock chimed for entry. He waited. When no response came, Spock frowned lightly. Unless the captain was sleeping, he usually answered the door within less than 16.8 seconds, however knowing the captain's tendencies for insomnia, this usually was not the case. He had only ever twice before arrived at his quarters when he was sleeping, both times around late hours before the Alpha shift began. The ship was currently five eighths through the Gamma shift.

Hesitating for point four fractions of a second, he chimed again. Perhaps he was not in his quarters. Spock moved to the computer.

"Computer, locate Captain Kirk." Within seconds the computer confirmed that he was in fact, in his quarters. Spock's eyes narrowed fractionally. The only logical assumption was he was in fact, asleep. While this did not entirely surprise him, for the captain worked exceedingly hard often overlapping shifts, he did feel a surge of disappointment. Recently, they had been engaging in numerous games of chess, which provided to be most fascinating. The captain frequently took Spock by surprise in his seemingly tactless moves, which often won him the game, more often than Spock had initially thought probable. He debated whether to wake the captain, but ultimately decided it of more importance for the captain's welfare. Turning on his heel about to leave, he detected a muffled crash from inside the room. Illogically, he thanked his Vulcan genetics for allowing him superior hearing, for if he had been merely human it would not have been heard.

Within seconds, Spock had punched in the override code, pulled out his phaser, and swept into the room. Sensing no immediate danger, he paused. Initially, he could seeing nothing but a scattered chess board. Then he saw him.

"_Jim_."

The Jim he recognised, the mischievous, incessantly but not unpleasantly flirtatious Jim, was no where to be seen. In his place was a terrified young man, slumped in a corner, wide eyed and fighting to breath. Spock unceremoniously shoved the phaser onto the table, stepped over the scattered chess pieces littering the floor, and rushed to the his side. His hands were immediately upon him, tenderly touching and testing, trying to find the fault. Jim was shaking violently, and those beautiful blue eyes, so often lit up with joy and an impish gleam, didn't appear to register Spock remotely. They overflowed with panic. The terror, the guilt, and the staggering loneliness seemed to scream from his every pore. It nearly broke Spock's heart.

"Jim. Jim, what has happened? Jim?" No amount of gentle coaxing would shift the horror in his eyes. Spock's hands flittered about his form, touching his arms, his shoulders, his face. All in an illogical need to simply _touch_ him, reassure him, comfort him. Spock was beginning to feel a heavy dread forming in his body, a sharp cold terror jarring his very being. The dark circles under Jim's eyes looked more prominent, his skin a sickly pallor. Then, as Jim's breathing began to deteriorate to dangerous levels, Spock cursed viciously for not doing so sooner, and grabbed his communicator. Jim wheezed and clutched his wrists. Spock's voice momentarily seemed lodged in his throat.

"Spock to McCoy."

"McCoy here. You sound-" McCoy's voice was cut off by Spock's immediate explanation.

"Jim. The captain. He's having a reaction to something, doctor, and I cannot find the source." Spock irritatingly noted his lack of coherency, but he could only focus on Jim and found it difficult to form articulate sentences.

"Where is he? What are the symptoms?" Immediately Spock recognised the tone change from mild irritation, to instant doctor barking.

"His quarters. His breathing is erratic, inconsistent at best. He has severe bodily tremors, and is currently unable to move from the floor. He has not yet responded to my presence." Spock watch Jim feverishly, running the possibilities through his mind. Poison? Possible but unlikely. For one to poison the captain of a ship this size was improbable when considering the fact that all nutrients came from one source which made achieving the probability of inflicting the poison upon the captain alone was almost impossible. Possible, but unlikely. Highly unlikely.

"Shit. Does he look like someone just told him the Admiral's want another debriefing with him?"

Spock very nearly hissed. "Doctor I do not think that using jesting metaphors at the time of a life threatening situation with the captain is appropriate. For one who considers himself to be a close friend-"

"Jesus alright alright! No need to jump down my throat! He's not dying Spock." McCoy said the last statement quickly as the sound of a dangerous growl came through the communicator. "He's having an anxiety attack, Spock, humans have these after extremely stressful and traumatic environments, usually after they've been thrown in with no prior warning. Such as-"

"You are referring to the incident with Khan." Spock hadn't removed his eyes from Jim, who had began to lean forward as though he were about to collapse. Spock was growing impatient. He had relaxed minutely upon establishing the fact that Jim wasn't going to die, but upon Jim's ever worsening conditions, the tightness had doubled anew.

"Exactly. He's had several that I know of. Nyota agrees with me on the whole Admiral front; if those damn bastards hadn't shown up when they did and gave Jim a little more time-" Spock filed away the use of Uhura's first name from someone other than himself before interrupting.

"Doctor. What can I do?"

McCoy sighed. "There's nothing you can do, Spock. You've just gotta comfort the kid until he comes round. God fucking damn it if I didn't have this sudden unexplained outbreak in medbay from one of your damn ensigns I might add-"

"Thank you, doctor." Spock closed the communicator and threw it to the side, diverting all his attention to Jim. He cupped Jim's face, and looked deep into his eyes. Those huge blue fragile orbs that so fascinated him, currently filled with an overwhelming guilt. "Jim. Jim, I am here," He could feel the pain rolling off him in waves, more so now that he had established skin to skin contact. Spock wanted to remove it all, he wanted to eradicate the pain and felt an irrationally desire to engulf him in his arms and hold him, "I am here with you…" He stroked his cheekbones, brushing away the tears that had fallen and shuffled closer. "You're safe, Jim. You're _safe_."

/

_I am here with you._

There were muffled words. They were distant, meaningless. A target by far too unreachable for his already lost soul. He felt as though he were drifting through open space, through the black inky void, surrounded by the soundless screams of the crew he'd lost. Their horrified faces slid past him. He tried reaching out but he couldn't. He couldn't move. He couldn't _breath_. He watched them reaching for him and disolving when he didn't save them. Again. The vacuum was pulling and taunting the breath from his body. Every particle of oxygen was being maliciously seduced from his lungs. He was suffocating. He was drowning.

_You're safe, Jim._

The words slipped by him, gliding a path before him. Creating a trail of promised securities and protection and comfort. Love. They hovered and enticed him. Jim desperately wanted to follow; his vision was blurring, everything was so confusing. He was almost upon his last breath. God he wanted this to be over.

_You're safe._

Immediately Jim felt a avalanche of memories pound through his mind. The voice. The so often clinically cold voice, always warmed when around him. The subtle quirk of an eyebrow, the flash of amusement in endlessly dark eyes that no one else caught. The fleeting glimpses of longing, of something more. The friendship. The hope. The love.

Like he was being doused in cold water, Jim was back to reality. His body was shivering, sweat pouring from him, there was moisture on his cheeks, a hollowness in his chest, and a dizziness flourishing in his brain. Jim jerked back against the wall, feeling like he was about to throw up. He took several long breaths, trying to calm his heart that was hammering like nothing he'd felt before. Spock was immediately before him. He lowered his hands.

Jim lifted his own and rubbed his face, breathing heavily. There was a long silence.

"Fuck." When he opened his eyes, he tried to smile at Spock but found it felt more like a grimace than an attempt at the cocky grin he saved especially for injuries and near death experiences.

"Doctor McCoy informed me of your anxiety attacks." Spock said quietly, his eyes still trained on Jim's. Jim dropped his hands to his side, fisting the fabric of his trousers aiming to lessen the trembles. "You should have informed me of this development at an earlier date."

Jim didn't know how to respond. He shrugged. "Sorry."

"Apologies in this case, are illogical." Jim opened his mouth to argue but he was just too damn tired. He blinked at Spock, still striving to push his breathing back to normal. "Doctor McCoy informed me that you were not in fact, dying, and that I should comfort you. I did not know of the precise science of comforting one during such circumstances, but I seem to have achieved this. I should have been... if this happens again in future I shall endeavour to be better prepared." If Jim hadn't known better, he would have thought Spock to be rambling. He studied Spock's face.

"Hey…" He tentatively put a hand on Spock's knee, "Hey it's okay. I'm good." He tried for his best reassuring smiling, disliking the way his first officer's features were subtly contorted.

"Jim…" Spock looked down at the hand on his knee, which Jim swiftly removed with a final pat. He felt a fresh stab of guilt, but hey, at least it wasn't for losing over half his crew. He almost laughed aloud at his relief of feeling a new kind of guilt.

Spock looked up. Then, in one swift and painfully graceful movement, he cupped Jim's face and leant forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He pulled back all too soon, and Jim saw with a rush off pleasing affection and adoration, a slight greenish tinge to his cheeks.

"If I may make a minor request, captain?" He asked quietly. Jim, still too stunned to speak, merely nodded, "If you will please inform me in future when you feel the beginners of another arriving, I would be grateful."

Helplessly, Jim nodded again. His head was reeling. Not ten minutes before, he'd thought he was having some sort of heart failure, and then Spock kissed him. Actually fucking kissed him. He stared wide eyed at his first officer. His heart was fucking racing again and _goddamn it_ he'd just calmed it down.

"Spock, did you just kiss me?" The tinge grew a little darker in shade. Jim found that offensively adorable.

"I was merely attempting to comfort you, cap-"

"If you call me captain right now and ruin this moment so fucking help me, Spock." Jim closed his eyes to take a moment to think. He was fucking _exhausted_. That was definitely the worst one yet. He'd doubted he would have come out of it even if Bones were there. Then Spock had undoubtedly and so fucking _gently_ pressed his lips to Jim's. He was attempting to comfort him. Jim did not find this at all objectionable and found that yeah okay, while he felt dead on his feet (or ass, the floor rather uncomfortably reminded him) and like his head was swimming in still murky waters, he felt… clearer. He was confused as hell, but he wasn't going to pass up on an opportunity to kiss his hot Vulcan best friend. When he opened his eyes, he found his lips curling up into a grin. Spock's ears were now tinged with a greenish hue and that was definitely not something he could ignore, anxiety attack hangover hanging over his head or not.

He leaned forward and attempted to kiss that frankly adorable shy look off Spock's face. For a second he wondered if he'd got it wrong, before Spock then relaxed and tentatively kissed him back.

When they stopped, breathing perhaps a little heavy (_again damn it_), Spock's eyes were pleasantly dark with desire and trained on Jim's lips. He smirked.

"About fucking time."

Spock's lips twitched. He briefly thought back to the expression he had seen not 16.83 minutes before on Jim's face, promptly deciding he would never allow it to be seen again. And with that decision and the help of a some kisses and tenderness, it never was.


	4. Epilogue

**A/N: **I know I know I'm literally the worst. I wrote out a whole apology and then didn't save the fucking document so lost my heartfelt pleas. Which I kinda deserved for not updating sooner but still. Thank you so very much for sticking with it thus far. As a reward for your saintly patience, I have complied a little epilogue. I aimed it to appear as though Spock is reminiscing on the first time they "slept together", after he's had his weekly gossip with Uhura (he can deny it all he wants it's totally gossip).

Ignoring my several week absence (I'm sorry shh shhh) I've caught the Star Trek writing bug and am planning an EPIC AWESOME STAR TREK ADVENTURE CRAZY COOL fic. So hopefully you shall see the first parts to that very soon.

In the mean time, enjoy the hopefully cute mushy ending to this story. I can't thank you enough for the reviews and favourites. You're all a bunch of beautiful daisies.

* * *

Spock started sleeping with Jim exactly four nights after what Jim kept incessantly referring to as 'a minor incident'. When he announced this to Nyota over their weekly cup of herbal tea, she reacted mostly unusually. She rather ungracefully spat the herbal tea across the table, before proceeding to stare in a look of mixed amusement and horror at Spock for several minutes. After precisely 3.78 minutes, she narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Shit, Spock, I mean I'm glad to know you've both finally bit the bullet and done god knows what knowing Kirk, which by the way, I don't want to know, but maybe you shouldn't go round saying that…" Spock frowned minutely, for he knew that Uhura rarely used expletives around him, and he had confused her.

"Nyota, neither Jim nor I have bitten any bullet-" She cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"It's just a phrase, it's not important."

"Besides, I had thought that is what people who are of close acquaintance do; is profess to each other such things. Seen as you have shown on multiple occasions a fondness for Jim, and appear to care for his state of health I theorised this was information you would wish to know." Spock swallowed a distasteful emotion, and took a sip of his tea. Uhura was quick to translate; _I thought we were friends and that's what friends do._

"Sweetie," She reached out and patted his arm lightly and briefly, "We _are_ friends. Of course you may talk to me about it, and of course I care for him, as big headed and idiotic as he is. I was taken aback. Frankly I'm a little shocked that you'd so casually announce you guys are fucking or doing, whatever, again don't wanna know. I didn't really think sex was paramount to Kirk's health but knowing him…" She shook her head, "No, I definitely don't want to know. God, Leonard must be rubbing off on me…" She trailed off seeing a slight green tinge colour Spock's cheeks.

Unusually, Spock felt the need to clear his throat. He did so. "I had meant to imply that Jim still has nightmares. It seemed logical that I should be there for when the occasion arrises that he needs to be reminded of a great deal and how imperative he is to a no doubt uncountable number of people."

"So you aren't having sex?" Uhura frowned and cocked her head. A trait Spock had always found pleasant.

"I did not say that." He spoke quietly, looking anywhere but Uhura.

"Good because I don't think any of us could handle any more of those obscene looks he keeps giving you. It's enough to make a sailor blush."

Spock ignored the latter statement, another of those 'human phrases', and repressed a smile at the former. Spock rather enjoyed those gazes of Jim's. He decided it was time for a topic change. "How is Leonard, Nyota?" Satisfied with the smile and blush that suddenly leapt into Nyota's face, he put the subject to the back of his mind.

Spock had in fact, begun sleeping, actual sleeping, in Jim's bed every night since he heard his shouts while he had been in their adjoined bathroom. Naturally, he had bolted straight into the room, expecting a fight with some retched creature that would swiftly regret its actions, only to find his captain, writhing atop the covers. Immediately sat by his side on what little room was left of the bed, he gently coaxed Jim into consciousness. His state of awake was less considerably so.

He sat bolt upright, looked gut wrenchingly petrified and promptly fallen off the edge of the bed. Spock pulled him back up, and sat directly before him, stroking his face. He kissed his cheeks, his jaw, his eyelids, absurdly his nose though it was not a temptation he could resist, gently covering his face in affection and love until his breathing had calmed.

"Mmph." Jim scrunched up his face and Spock sat back. "Nightmare?" He asked in a timid voice, most unlike himself.

"Indeed."

Jim sighed. "Thanks."

"With pleasure, Jim." Hearing his own name seemed to bring him a little back to himself.

"It certainly was a pleasant way to be brought out of it." He smiled a little, before sitting quietly for 4.3 minutes. Spock was beginning to feel marginally unsure, and was about to remove himself when Jim suddenly looked up, his eyes hauntingly blue even in the dim room. "Hey you're naked."

Spock felt his expression soften. It was terribly satisfying to have his Jim back. "Not entirely, Jim." He was in fact, half clothed; he wore silk bottoms, no top, during his sleeping schedule.

"Wanna get _more_ naked?" Jim waggled his eyebrows and grinned in an indecent manner that made Spock feel a little flustered.

"Jim. You have just awoken from an unpleasant experience. I hardly think now is suitable timing. You must rest."

"Like hell it isn't, all the more reason to do something…" He raked his eyes over Spock's chest, then back up to his eyes, "pleasing." Spock's lips twitched and he reached for Jim's hand.

"You must rest." Spock brought Jim's hand to his lips, and dusted the knuckles with kisses. "Sleep." Once again unable to resist the temptation, he leaned forward and kissed Jim's nose before shifting to stand. Jim's hand stopped him.

"Hey, uh, why don't you, y'know, stay."

"Jim you really ought to-"

"Not for sex, just for… in case it happens again and you're comforting and stuff so… if you want." Spock looked back down at Jim, who's voice was hesitant and unsure. He had prepared taunts for such occasions when the infamous James T Kirk turned down copulation, but he felt this was not such an occasion. That could wait for another time.

"Of course, Jim." Spock settled back onto the bed, and within a very short space of time, he found his arms wrapped around Jim in an alarmingly comfortable manner (this was something Jim would later sheepishly tell him was called 'spooning', something he was very fond of). He felt the heat of Jim's body seeping into his own, the presence of his mind as deliciously warm as his physical. The sound of his heartbeat, the rhythm of his pulse, began to gently lull Spock into a sleepy state. Then, very softly, he heard quiet words drift lazily into his ear.

"This makes me feel safe. You do, Spock. You make me feel safe." His voice was barely above a whisper. Spock was certain that illogically Jim had not wished him to hear them. Regardless, he squeezed Jim closer and returned the sentiments. Then, impulsively but tenderly, kissed the nape of his neck.

Both fell into a deep and comfortable slumber.


End file.
